Green
by rockinfaerie
Summary: Green is for growth. Beauty. Poison. Envy. Absorb these different aspects of life as they complicate the lives of two particular people (Lily and Severus). Vaguely inspired by the Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Three Colours" trilogy. Please review!
1. The Moss Growing On The Wall

Disclaimer: The characters and location are JK's, obviously, but Imubru is mine

The Moss Growing On The Brick Wall

Severus Snape followed the drop of rain as it slid down the window, joined more drops as it decended, and disappeared inevitably into the water on the sill.

He turned with a sigh, to the matter at hand. Business had become a part of his life, dealing with customers and ingredients, money and grime, all forming to make day after day of his apprenticeship at Potente Potions, 21 Knockturn Alley, with Mr Imubru, the highly respected Potions master.

Potions had always fascinated Severus. The actions of mixing and measuring, the reaction and the triumph of the resulting effects. The colours, contrasting with their use, the way some shimmered, others sparkled, or glowed, or did nothing obvious but once consumed unleashed the vast power to be found in each component. Their variety of uses, be they good of bad, their versatility! These were the reasons Severus wanted to master the art, so that potions would become his servants.

In spite of this, Severus did not enjoy being an apprentice. He had to work at the till, for hours on end, dealing with all sorts of transactions. It was only when the shop closed at five o' clock that he could learn from Imubru the mystery of herbs or stones in creating a positive or negative reaction. He could also bury himself in his books, though the action of potion making appealed far more to him.

Potente Potions was a very busy place these days. The ministry's sanctions on trade in an effort to decrease potential emergency situations had made (among other things)harmless ingredients illegal because of what they could be teamed with. Thus opened a huge black market for common substances, materials and primary potions.

A lot of money could be made, if you had sufficiant connections with ministry officials, and Imubru had connections.

The ministry had shut down several businesses in Knockturn Alley already this month, and had promised a crackdown on the entire wizard region of London. Though there was huge panic among any of these businesses (from quidditch supplies to menageries), there was even more to be worried about for normal magical beings. Medicinal ingredients were in very short supply, as were those needed for gastronomic, hygenic and economic purposes. The fact that the ministry was continuing to turn a blind eye to Imubru's illegal activites meant that Potente Potions was now perhaps the busiest apothecary in all of wizard Britain.

Severus had carefully counted coins all day long. The customers always eyed him suspiciously through their hats and scarves, and when it appeared that everything was in order they'd snatch their jar of stewed fish heads or fried buttock or whatever it was from him without a word of gratitude.

"You're welcome!" Severus would call at those rude retreating backs,only to deal with the next customer, perhaps a spotty teenage wizard who wished to buy some yew hair, or a filled out red-haired mother who needed some baby salve, always ashamed of her presence there.

It was early December, and another valid reason for the crowds congregating at Potente Potions was that Christmas was around the corner. People were preparing for whatever sort of holiday they intended to have, though there was much less cause for celebration nowadays than in previous years.

The shop had become unbearably hot, and thick condensation had formed on the large shop windows.

It was then that Severus was staring atthe stream formed by a single droplet on the window pane. Imubru had told him to take a five minute break.

"Lad, I'll take over, you count toads or something."

Just then something, or someone, caught his attention frombehind the curtain of droplets and the window pane. He looked at the clock. It was now four o'clock, and the unceasing rain had grown heavier, causing an earlier decent of darkness than usual. His eyes followed the figure as it walked by the shop front and - Severus lost sight of her for a moment - she entered the shop.

He could see her, even through the crowds. She was the only figure that he could see clearly in this pile of meaningless babble. He would know her a mile away. Her graceful movement - the way she seemed to flow rather than walk, her smell, her breathing. He breathed deeply as he watched her,absorbing her every detail.

Like most people in the shop, she was wearing the hood of her robes up. It was common practise, as one risked recognition otherwise. In the time that was in it, it was not safe to be seen in a public place, especially a person of her calibre.

She moved between people, glancing at shelves, somewhat nervously, Severus suddenly realised. He thought this slightly strange,as Lily never had seemed nervous about anything. Not when they were at school, at least.

When did he last see her? He didn't like to think of it. And yet, it seemed like no time had passed since. What was it, two years? Three?

Lily now seemed more urgent in her movement, and Severus watched her from his corner behind the counter. A toad leaped away from his lap and onto the windowsill.

"Go now, you're free," Snape grunted.

He was determined not to be seen by her. Why hadn't he slipped into one of the back rooms when he had had the chance? Because he was too busy being captivated by her, that's why.

Lily knew he had been watching her. She felt his eyes burning into her back, as she moved pointlessly from shelf to shelf. She knew exactly what it was she had come for. She had it, clutched in her hand. A small vial, no bigger than her forefinger, full of a bright green liquid. She knew that it must serve its purpose.

What if she just left the shop with the desired item in her hand?

Of course not. Shop fronts are charmed to detect any unsold good leaving the premises.That would be impossible.She needed it, but was determined that he, of all people, should not see what it was.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye, and saw him again. He appeared to be staring intently at a group of toads on the desk in front of him. He wasn't dealing with customers today!

The joy of knowing that she would not have to deal with him was enough to make her way quickly through the throngs and up to the counter. She recognised the owner, Imubru, from the newspapers. Not to mention the times in the past two days since she made her decision that she had stepped in the doorway and walked back out, from sheer nerves, she supposed.

Snape looked up. Lily was right in front of the counter, waiting to avail of Imubru's service. She was staring resolutely in another direction. Severus did not know if she had seen him there. He bent his head further down, as if inspecting the toads closely. He stole another glance at her. Her pale skin was flushed slightly, her flawless features turned away so that he could not indulge fully in this feast of perfection. He felt something within him stir that he had not felt for years and then felt a huge remorse, a sorrow at the kind of double life he was leading, and the mark on his arm.

Lily had reached the front of the counter. There was one customer in front of her, an elderly man who was taking his time paying for stardust.

"A highly valuable commodity, you understand," she heard Imubru say to him. She wished they would hurry up. She glanced in Snape's direction. He had his head down still, though she was sure she had felt him look at her seconds before. She gripped the vial.

Severus cursed Old Duke under his breath. He wished Imubru would just deal with him and get on with it. Now they were talking about the price of candlewax. Candlewax! Just deal with her, Imubru!

Lily was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. It was so warm. Anything but encounter Snape.

Severus saw her looking down. He kept his eyes on her a second too long. She looked up, directly at him.

Imubru was not about to dismiss a very wealthy client of his too quickly. He looked up. He saw a young,beautiful girl behind his Old Duke. Physical appearance notwithstanding, he needed to talk business with this man! He became a bit flustered.

"Where is that Snape?"

Severus saw Imubru's head turn in his direction.

"You, deal with this young lady, right now!"

Lily froze as she watched Snape rise heavily out of his chair, the toads falling on the tiled floor. He came to the counter.

She was standing directly opposite him now.

"Well, what is it?" Severus asked, as he saw no article on the counter. It was up to her to acknowledge him. He would simply treat her as an insignificant muggle-born customer.

Lily recoiled slightly at this indifferent remark. She had the vial. She put it on thelime countertop.

Snape stared at it, the green hues fizzling beneath the cork stopper. He knew exactly what it was. He also happened to know that this shop was the only outlet it was sold in in all of England, and that such information wasn't widely known. He looked up at her, directly into her eyes. Her eyes, like green orbs of light in this dank miserable room. At that moment they were the only things he saw.

Lily knew that he would know. She had adopted the blank facial expression associated by some with occlumency, though she had never had any training. Her wish was to keep Snape out of her thoughts and feelings. If he had to know what it was she was buying so be it.

"How much?" she asked cooly.

Severus was taken aback by her sharp approach. Soft, beautiful Lily. How did this happen?

Severus retrieved his blank expression and quoted the price.

He took her money; and noted that she had given him the exact amount.

Severus watched her as she hurried out the door.

Lily turned and walked through the rain, past the soaked windows.

Severus sat back down, and watched the beautiful figure glide elegantly past. He returned to watching the raindrops, as Imubru locked up.

He turned to see Imubru drawing the shutters.

"Busy today!" said Imubru with glee. "Huge range of customers. That woman you served as we were closing, beautiful! Wasn't she?"

Severus murmered a reply. He knew Imubru didn't want an answer.

"Fine change she makes to the usual hags anyway! What was it she bought...?"

Severus said he couldn't remember. Dried Frog? Element of Yolk?

Imubru didn't mind that Snape couldn't remember. He was in a jolly mood, having secured yet another deal with Old Duke. He went to the backroom, to prepare ingredients for that night's class. He told Snape to wash up, that they'd have dinner in an hour,as usual.

Snape couldn't get the vial out of his head.The little amount of liquid that could do so much. He had noticed a slight rise in sales of that potion, due to, he expected, dangers in the country that were far too huge to risk - but could you call it a risk?

Risking the existence of someone?

Preventing someone from being born? So that they never would become a someone? Those that are never known for living.

Perhaps it was his upbringing. Who was he to judge?

Just then, his arm burned. Not yet used to this sort of unexpected pain he had given a small cry. He informed Imubru that he would be back shortly, and Imubru never questioned these matters.

With that, Severus disapparated.


	2. Decisions

Disclaimer: The characters and location are JK's, obviously, butthe other stuffis mine!

**She gazed at the vial.**

The contents were swirling like a trapped wind, innocently desperate to unleash its force on the intended object. The green light emitted from the container causing an odd reflection to dance on the wooden table where it rested. The room was only semi-lit by candlelight. How fortunate, she thought, that tonight she would not be disturbed.

She moved her fingers lightly across the desk surface, feeling the grooves and slight crevasses in the dark wood. She had been here many times, but the memories of such a place did not cause happiness, only a strange longing for a simpler time.

She lowered her eyes to observe the meaningless graffiti carved in front of her. Here was the place where she had first learned of the many properties of substances, about the elements of nature that when properly combined could unleash a power, or a mess. Sometimes both, she suddenly realised.

Lily rose from her seat to observe the familiar room. The walls still smelt of those fumes, and they were damp with the moisture on the air. Different fungi grew in light clumps towards the ceiling. The weak light of the candle cast long shadows on the floor. She could see the different types of cauldrons, jars and chairs silhouetted in the dark corners.

She swung round. She had felt it on her back, the vial on the desk. She noticed for the first time that a condensation had formed on the glass.

**He was hidden, safe behind his mask.** The Dark Lord paced up and down, and on hearing his words Severus relaxed slightly. Tonight it seemed, was not to be a night of pointless destruction.

The chilling voice echoed around the cavern, and the torch flames flickered with fright. On apparating, Severus had counted the number of masked followers – Death Eaters, as they were called. Today there were five less than the usual number, though the exact number of Death Eaters was unknown to anyone but the Dark Lord himself. Severus had tried to observe habits and mannerisms associated with each, but the heavy black cloaks disguised any movement particular to one person and the thick masks muffled any distinction of voice.

The green torches lit the masks, and they glowed white. The darkness below presented the idea that these beings in fact had no lower body. This was an illusion, and anyone who had suffered at their _hands _could vouch for that.

"If any of you," the Dark Lord screeched, "are under the assumption that tonight's mission shall prove fruitless, then I suggest a _personal appointment_ with me, and I will give you some advice that may, shall we say, _stir you?_"

There was once more a collective shudder within the group, as anyone who openly opposed the Dark Lord's plans would surely be tortured into madness, as was common practice, or receive a far worse seal of fate than could possibly be imagined. He had many weapons, each more terrible than the last.

One by one, each chosen Death Eater dissaparated to arrive at their destination, and they knew that this mission would succeed – at any cost.

**Lily was seated again.** Her elbows were on the desk, her chin placed in her hands. The sealed vial still stared back at her.

She looked around the classroom again. Did she ever imagine, three years ago, even, that the situation with Voldemort could get even worse? She had sat here then, in this very seat. She remembered the chatter, the laughter sometimes, and the mixed feeling she had had about several of her classmates. It was a school still, the students in their dormitories asleep, she presumed. This castle was the safest place in the world.

She remembered the boy who sat next to her, how he smiled at her, how he made her laugh. How his attentions towards her had made the other girls jealous, and the notes she sometimes received, on scraps of parchment, written in his scrawl.

James still made her smile – she was smiling now, just thinking about him.

She wondered how he would feel if he knew she was doing this. It was for the best, she kept telling herself. She looked down at her midriff. She had suspected it for some time, but only recently had gained confirmation with a spell.

Suddenly, her head was filled with sounds and images that tore at her heart. She knew all about the faith of those behind him, the terror of those before him, and the dense bravery of those against him. The radio told the world daily of his plans, his ideas, and the mass following he had gained worldwide in the past nine years. She remembered when he gained power, in her first year, and how his ideas made no sense to her.

Voldemort's theory, and her insides churned with terror and fear as she thought of it, was that the Wizarding World's woes lay solely with the "impure" people, those who had the cheek to call themselves wizards and witches. Those with veins that flowed with dirt rather than blood, these were to be eradicated. These were weak links, he had said. If their world was to prosper, these blemishes must be dealt with, so as to erase any suggestion of failure.

So her woes, according to the masses, lay in her veins and not in her magical ability. The sheer injustices brought on by these words infuriated her. Not surprising was the important support Voldemort had gained. These attitudes had always been flowing in undercurrents in society. She knew of some families who married their own cousins so as not to "infect" their bloodline.

She felt immediately nauseous and knew that this time, it had nothing to do with pregnancy.

**The flock of black robes arrived silently outside the house.** There was no flapping of cloaks in the still night air, and the group made its way swiftly across the wet grass. Ivy covered the stone walls of the house, and Severus glanced at his colleagues. Together they made five.

The house seemed to stiffen as they approached. Any security spell had been broken. They knew this was certain, for the Dark Lord had seen to it. An inside job, apparently. The tallest Death Eater slammed violently on the door with his fist. He shouted words of sarcastic warning to the inhabitants. The door shook, but the house remained still. For one second, Severus was sure he had glimpsed several strands of silvery blond hair on this man's head, but he was distracted. The door had flown open, only to display a pitch dark hallway.

The group before him plunged into the interior, emitting terrible war cries as they did so. Their cries reached a pitch, and Severus ran after, his wand raised high above his head, hoping that he had left any hindering human feeling outside in the grass.

He ran down the hallway, following the fast flowing cloaks of the others. They turned into a second darkened room, a kitchen it seemed. This too appeared empty.

**Dumbledore had protected her for seven years from the harsh realities of purism.** But the time came when he could protect her no more, when the brutality and muggle-hating brought about such sorrow in her own life.

Life.

She turned her attention once more to the vial. It glowed again, tempting her to open it and pour its contents down her throat. The cork stopper had swollen in the liquid. Lily squirmed slightly. It would only work if she took it now; another day and it would prove ineffective. She shuddered at the thought of going back to that shop. She wondered what he had thought, when he saw what she was buying.

She had to do it now.

She took the vial in her left hand, and placed her right on the cork to unscrew it.

**Severus paused.** He heard a scream. A victorious cry came from the adjoining room.

He heard a lot of violent movement, and ran to the source of the commotion.

He arrived in the kitchen, to discover a bitter battle – the Prewett brothers were not going to go without a fight. Light flashed over his head, and feeling secure in his mask and cloak, he joined in.

**She looked down at the vial in her hands.** It was close to her chin now. She could see the vapours rising from the potion surface.

She hadn't expected this to happen to her for a long time. Silly thought really, but somehow introducing new life to such a world seemed so inappropriate that the thought that it should happen simply never crossed her mind. She had thought so much of death and so little of birth.

She was not drinking the liquid for her own sake. The idea of forcing a new person into a world of terror and injustice did not seem right. This … child, the child of a pureblood and a muggle-born would not be tolerated by Voldemort's regime. The thought of losing someone dear to her again haunted her. Her own mother and father only stared back at her through memories – and Petunia would have nothing to do with her. James was the only family she had. But then this happened…

She had never believed that she would be one to do this.

**Gideon and Fabian were excellent fighters Severus had to admit, but far too noble. **They never would strike a turned back, and they were both dead within an hour of the Death Eaters' arrival. The bodies were strewn across the kitchen floor, side by side. Severus could feel their deaths seeping into the foundations of the house. Only the cackles of his comrades could be heard. He followed their loud mirth. He wondered what could possibly be funny at this time.

**Voldemort would have her killed. **She knew that. She had escaped his clutches too many times to remain insignificant to him. She was scum to this world.

Lily hated it. She hated the pointless, terrible murders, the statistics that seemed to pile up every morning. She hated the blood, the threats, and the limits provided by her parentage. She hated the way some wizards looked at her, as though they could control her by a flick of their wands.

She loved James. She loved those moments spent with him where nothing would go wrong. She loved the people who had been taken from her.

Anger flared in her chest. Voldemort wanted this. To eradicate her _non-pure_ race forever. The vial fell back onto the desk, lying sideways, rolling slightly, the liquid still bubbling. She was his enemy – and so was this child.

**Severus moved silently across the hall. **The laughter was coming from the room straight ahead. The door was ajar, and as he approached the Death Eaters' laughter grew louder. He pushed the door and stepped inside.

**She put her hands to her stomach. **Nothing seemed to be happening there. Her hands were trembling slightly. She wondered how much time had passed. At first the solution seemed so logical, so right. There were many ways to be right.

What about all those people he had killed? All those innocent victims, all those _children… _

Would she be like such a villain?

**He saw the other Death Eaters, huddled together. **Snape was beside them in seconds. He followed their jeers to the victim before them.

He may have been five years old. Moonlight poured in through the window causing the blood in his hair to glisten. He was crouched against the bedroom wall, his hands blocking his ears, his face screwed up and tears wetting his cheeks. Under the guffaws of the Death Eaters, Severus could hear the child crying quietly. The child's legs were shaking, one foot bent at an odd angle.

The tallest Death Eater spoke.

"Well. Shall we roast you then?"

"Yes, what way would you like to end?" another comrade quipped.

"How about green light, just like your daddy, hmm?"

The tallest squatted down beside him. His face was now very close to the one ravaged by tears.

"Or will we _play_ with him first? How about a game, little boy? You'd like that, wouldn't you…?"

The Death Eaters moved closer. Severus couldn't breathe.

**Lily felt that the vial had wronged her. **It was not the perfect solution she had imagined it to be. She glared at it like a petulant child who had not gotten her way.

She must be brave.

She could not do this. It would be blatant acceptance of his regime.

Her thoughts speeded unwillingly to the things she had seen – smashed skulls, dislocated limbs, grotesque transfigurations, invisible methods of torture, those empty, controlled eyes, willing to die for something they didn't even know. Entire families were evaporated.

Her head was in her hands.

**Severus saw it. **He couldn't pull his eyes away. The Dark Lord would know. His bitterness towards himself and others peaked. His terror at the unspeakable things being done to this boy was enough to make him kill himself for his lack of prevention. It seemed to go on for years.

"Go on then, it's your turn."

**How could she do this? **The question tore at her mind. The reasons resurfaced, but they were weak. She was not.

**He couldn't. **He turned and fled to the hall.

**She was not weak. **She could do this. She would. She grabbed the vial in her hand, the cool moisture soaking her palm.

**He retched. **He retched and retched. The dizziness was overpowering. His eyes could only be drawn towards the growing puddle on the carpet, soaking his hands in yellow chunks, turning into a green mess when there was nothing left in him to rid himself of.

**She raised the vial. **She flung it against the wall.

**He let his head fall into it. **The warmth surrounded his head, taking his dizziness to new levels.

**The vial shattered. **Shards of glass flew to the ground.

**The stench. **That stench would remind him forever of this night. The chunks in his hair, how heavy his head felt…

**It streamed down the wall. **The innocent looking mixture formed a puddle on the floor.

**He felt footsteps beside him. **The vomit was all over the inside of his mask. It was wet against his cheek. His eyes were watering.

**It had happened so slowly. **It seemed as though she could have reached out to catch it. The little broken pieces of glass were soaked through.

**He was being helped up. **He barely had time to register that it was the tallest Death Eater when he was hit, suddenly, across the face. He was in the carpet mess again.

"You're a new one. You still know what awaits you for disobeying orders. We'll make sure that next time, you get the first turn."

Severus felt the speaker's feet move past his head. Seconds later, he felt his other colleagues sweep past him, and he knew that he had been made an example of.

**Lily felt slightly faint. **There was no going back. The thought terrified her, but she felt a sudden rush of adrenaline at what she had just done, and a vague excitement at what lay ahead of her. She cleaned up the mess in an instant and, wiping a single tear from her cheek, opened the door and left the potions classroom.

**Severus tasted defeat in his mouth. **He reached inside his mask to wipe it, but his efforts were in vain. In another few minutes he realised that the house would not be left alone. He rose from his death–like position and dissaparated.


	3. To Conceal Or To Reveal

Disclaimer: Don't ownanythingexcept for Julius and themes and general interpretation of what may have happened!

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**To Conceal Or To Reveal**

**Potente Potions was not the only place that sold illegal substances.** Recent economic downturns and sanctions on ingredient trafficking had made people desperate. Those who could not afford to buy in Potente Potions looked to the underground market for supplies.

This vast underground trade had allegedly been developed by Irish wizards, eager to smuggle such services in from their own country, where these sanctions were not yet imposed. A powerful network had evolved, and somehow it managed to escape the claws of the Ministry.

It had been dubbed the "green" market by the Ministry, so called due to its apparent Irish influence.

In an effort to suppress such activity, the Ministry had offered financial rewards to anyone with information on those behind it. Recent economic downturns had reflected sharply on the living conditions of many wizards and witches, but they were still reluctant to come forward, owing to these resources that they wouldn't have otherwise.

Julius "Imubru" O' Phoitigear was a very busy man. As money piled up in his bank vault at Gringotts, so did the number of names on his enemy list.

The more customers he got, the angrier the green market became. True, he had been involved at one point – it was where he had learned the ropes of the business - but he had cut his ties a long time ago.

The main cause for their anger, he was certain, was the fact that he provided an outlet for these illegal goods. The Ministry was not to be messed with, but kindly place some cash under their noses and you have them tied around your little finger. This little "agreement" between Julius and the Ministry had been going on for a long time before the sanctions came into place. Julius was an observant businessman who could sense a change in the economy like the wind and always liked to be three steps ahead of the game. A bag full of gold meant that the Ministry employed ignorance, and as long as his only form of advertising was word of mouth, they were happy.

His methods of attaining these substances were unclear, though there were rumours of unplottable farms in several countries.

For all his wealth, Potente Potions was rather dingy. Julius blamed this on the area, though his fear of investment at the time prevented him from moving the premises. He had also been instructed not to flash his wealth, something that might arouse suspicion.

The shop itself took up most of the ground floor; other rooms included store rooms and a small washroom. Rickety stairs behind a door at the back led up to the living quarters. A narrow hallway came through his flat, past doors that led to the kitchen, a living room, bathrooms, several bedrooms and a laboratory.

A wooden ladder led further upwards, to his study. Here was where he would stay up at night, counting that day's income. He would spread the green notes in neat little bundles on his desk, bathed in candlelight, and the pillars of coins shone, creating a musty smell in the air.

It was very late on this December night that Julius sat counting his money. He was locked in a practised formula of multiplication and division, and it was only when he heard the sound of a door slamming from the floor below that he returned to reality. His apprentice was back.

He descended the ladder, the trapdoor above his balding head disappearing from view. He saw that Snape's door was closed. Julius walked to his own room, shutting the door quietly. Sleep was not an intelligent sacrifice in a business where you needed all your wits about you.

**Severus didn't bother to undress.** He just lay on his bed, half rolled over, staring into thin air. His hand still grasped his wand, and he trembled uncontrollably. His fear sickened him, and he longed for a break from that horrible feeling of shame. Images of that night still flickered before him, and his brain was too exhausted to keep them out.

All four walls of the room were painted in a murky khaki mixture, only reminding him of the sight of his own bile. The colour seemed to ooze like mucus in Severus' blurred vision, and he felt as if he was swimming in it. Everywhere he turned he seemed to see them – those victims, leering over him as he longed desperately to escape. He could not rid himself of the nausea, the swaying and scattered thoughts, and the sight of the senseless shapes around him. Nor could he move – he remained stuck to the sweaty sheets, as he tried to stay deaf to the whispering around him.

He slapped, scratched, and hit his mark; he hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

He was not stuck anymore. He was rolling around, trapped inside his own knowledge of the night. He resisted a scream, a sob, any sound at all, for fear of waking Imubru.

There he wept internally, suffocating in a khaki swamp of torture, madness and never-ending grief.

He tried desperately to focus on something else.

**Lily tried to calm herself.** She had returned to London that night, to James. Her business had been at Hogwarts; Dumbledore had called a meeting of a select few members of the Order. The main cause of the small gathering was to explain the matter of several new secret locations where the Order could meet in larger groups. This information was to be passed on by word of mouth to the most trusted only, because in written form it could prove fatal.

She was tired – she had not expected yesterday's sudden excursion to be so soon, but was glad of the chance to reach a conclusion on her own. Her decision had been final, and even if she wanted to now, the potion would be ineffective. She didn't want to.

She watched James' sleeping face so close to her own. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, and his arms had wrapped around her in his sleep. Her heart was beating quickly. She wondered how he would take it.

She hadn't thought of how to tell him – only to tell him. She half-wished he would wake up, and half-wished he wouldn't, so that she could spend all morning lying here, just watching him sleep.

The cool morning light filtered through the curtains. She could hear the monotonous rumble of traffic below, and moved closer to him, wondering if she could invade his dreams. The blankets kept them warm from the wintry air, and she could feel his heart beating against her own. She smiled.

Her eyes roved the ceiling, and the patterns that joined it to the walls.

His arms moved slightly. He slowly loosened their grip.

"You're awake…"

Lily turned. He was grinning at her, and he pulled her closer towards him. She was happy to be in his comforting arms, but she was suddenly nervous again. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and she felt his chest move up and down.

"What's wrong?"

He was watching her closely. Nothing was wrong.

"Nothing is wrong," she replied.

She needed to tell him. She needed to know how he felt. She smoothed her hand on his chest and looked up at him. His expression was so loving, so understanding.

"I'm pregnant."

She looked back down. She had felt his chest rise suddenly. For what seemed like an eternity, her head lay still against him. She felt his heart beating quickly. She waited for him to say something.

He rose, holding her gently as he did so. He now sat, his arm still around her.

"Are you sure?"

Of course she was sure. She wouldn't say anything if she wasn't. She nodded, raising her eyes again to meet his. She could distinguish the shades of green from brown in his hazel eyes, and she tried to understand what he felt. She took his hand. He didn't seem to notice. For several moments he didn't speak.

She moved her head away from his shoulder.

"Please say something."

Her mouth was beginning to curve up slightly, only at his astonishment that this could actually have happened. He continued to stare straight ahead. He was now smiling too, his eyes sparkling with emotion.

He turned to her, gathering her into his arms again.

"I love you. Both of you."


	4. Growth

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone except Julius and Rosaline. As I said before!

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**Growth - 4th Chapter of Green by Rockinfaerie**

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**-**

**His eyes flew wide open.** Light glared through the cracks in the window shutters. He could hear movement on the street below. Severus rolled over, his body heaving. The room smelled stale.

**Julius was serving customers again.** He did not expect Snape to get up. Julius' eyes were bleary, but he greeted customers with his usual rushed charm. Potente Potions was busy with afternoon shoppers, hoping to make their buys before it grew dark. The newsstands across the street were plastered with bold headlines. Julius did not have time to read them, but he could hear from the general murmur around him that something rather momentous had happened. Clearly it was not serious enough to affect business; he paid little heed to the voices hiding either fear or celebration.

It was only towards five o' clock, as the lamps on the street came on, when Julius saw the newspaper heading up close. A witch had laid it on the counter in front of him. She seemed distracted – her dark hair was out of place, and she had to dig deep into her pocket to retrieve her money.

As Julius took the condensed magnesia essence from her, he read the headline, blotted slightly from the mist outside.

**One of the first temporary locations of the Order of the Phoenix was in a dark brick Georgian building in Oxford.** Soggy grey steps led to the large black door. It was through this that Lily entered, James directly behind her. Something terrible had happened.

Around her, there were many people, rushing up and down the front hall. Their faces were tired and grey, and their eyes skimmed over her with polite indifference. Panic was in the air;

The Prewetts had been murdered.

**Severus had dressed slowly.** He now made his way down Knockturn Alley in a hunched position, reluctant to attract attention. Imubru had not bothered him, and he ambled on, his hair gradually soaking in the fine rain.

The cobbles were slippy, and the barrels that stood outside the shop fronts were closed. Few people wandered outside in the dark, and Severus remained undisturbed. The narrow streets were lit artificially with the many torches on the outer walls, and they cast a strange reflection on the wet ground. His breath had turned to a grey fog before him, and he could see his own shadow flicker across the beamed walls. He turned up his collar to keep his neck dry and walked on.

**After locking up, Julius retired upstairs.** Snape had left the store without a word, and Julius had ignored the strange young man as he swept past him and out the door. Julius stumbled into his armchair. His eyes closed and he felt peaceful after his hard day of money-earning.

**Rosaline checked her reflection quickly in the mirror.** Her dark hair hung around her face. She swept her hand through it in an effort to undo the knots that had formed there. Rising from her bent position she extinguished her half-smoked cigarette on the table. The words of the drunken singer in the room next door were inaudible.

Her cloak hung loosely around her thin frame, and in any other profession this might have been bothersome. She added pink flower petals to her recently purchased bottle and took a deep drink.

"Leeny!"

This was her screeched reminder from the mistress in the pub that she had a customer. Rosaline supposed it would be another drunken idiot, one who would fall asleep within the first ten minutes and have to be hauled out.

She hurriedly opened the door, her mouth assuming an upward position has she did so. Her concoction had done the job. She leaned against the wall, her arms folded. The floor was damp; she could feel the cold seeping through her long striped socks.

There was no-one in the hall yet.

"Tell them to get a move on then!" she called back, holding her robes up far above her knees.

Her hair covered most of her face, and she flung it back, forcing it out of the way.

**Lily found it hard to let James go.** He and a few other members had been ordered to go directly to the scene and garner any evidence about how this atrocity had come about. She sat glumly on the narrow seat in the study, trying to tell herself that he would be all right.

Several other members had also left. She supposed that it was Ministry business. They worked undercover, their genealogy convincing enough to secure a job there. Older members were downstairs, researching ancient protection charms for their fellow members.

Dumbledore sat on the chair opposite her. He spoke to her briefly. He was clearly deeply saddened by this event, and had little to say to her. He told her that she had to wait here, that he needed her to look after some family members of the Prewetts in a little while. She politely complied, though she was slightly annoyed that her job held little importance for the Order.

She half-wondered if Dumbledore suspected anything about her, but his eyes told her that he didn't know.

The lines on his face stood out clearly and on close examination she realised that he was scared. This revelation worried her much more than any other made that day. Her former headmaster got up and started to pace the room. He was distracted.

**She was a lone figure, leaning against the wall.** Severus entered silently, his arm trailing the wall beside him. Her robes were held up to her thighs revealinga pair of white, wasted legs. The young woman spun around, her face an obscure expression of ecstasy.

"Ooh, look at you!" she giggled, her hands clutching him.

There were gaps in her teeth, Severus noticed, and her mouth shone like blood. Her skin was very pale, but her grey eyes danced mischievously. She grabbed his hand, and Severus followed as she led him through the door and shut it.

**Percy climbed the steep stairs one by one.** He wondered why his mother was so cross with him. She was walking quickly, and he struggled to keep up. Clutched in his small hands was a pot of earth. He had requested to take it with him, and his mother didn't seem to mind. The walls around him were dark and scary. He wondered if any ghosts lived in this house. He didn't know where his mother was taking him.

Percy decided it was a race to the top of the stairs, and he carried his four-year-old self up to the landing ahead of his mother. She came just ahead of him, but when he turned she wouldn't look at him. Percy sulked.

His mother raised her hand and knocked sharply on the door.

**Julius woke from his doze, and he mulled over the paper**. The report of the top story was very vague; it gave no details as to who the perpetrators of this vile crime were. Julius' thoughts roamed back to the previous night. Snape had been out late, but as this idea came into his head he pushed it out. No need to get caught up in such matters, he told himself.

**Lily opened the door.** Two people stood on the landing in front of her – a short woman and a small boy, both with red hair. The woman was flustered, her hair was out of place and she rubbed her hands together nervously. Lily immediately knew who they were. Molly Weasley's face was very pale.

Lily felt deep sympathy for the older woman. She knew too well how it felt to lose close relatives in such circumstances.

Dumbledore stepped between them. His voice was filled with sorrow.

"Molly if you will come with me…"

He turned back to Lily. He gave her a trusting nod and left the room with Mrs Weasely.

**The room had become a blur.** Rosaline could hear herself laughing. She tried to concentrate on the hanging basket by the window but this sight failed to captivate her vision. He smelled very strange – like a broad mixture of herbs and liquid. She felt herself grin as she inhaled these exotic substances that lay on his skin.

**Percy watched his mother disappear with the tall old man.** He looked up at the girl. She was a nice girl. She had long dark red hair. She stopped looking worried and turned to him and smiled. Percy leaned shyly against the arm of the chair.

She sat down beside him.

"My name's Lily. What's your name?"

Percy smiled.

"Percy", he whispered.

She asked him what he was holding. He told her that it was going to be a plant, but it didn't look like a plant yet. It just looked like mud.

She asked if she could see it. Percy showed it to her. He put it on the floor between them, but told her not to touch because it was sleeping. She asked him what age he was. Percy told her that he was four and three months.

**Lily finally coaxed little Percy out of his shell.** He now talked freely. He told her about his brothers who were staying with his dad, and he told her about his house.

Rain drummed down on the window in the far wall of the study. The curtains were closed, and the room was quite warm.

In order to refrain from worrying about her husband, among others, she kept in cheerful conversation with the boy. He had no idea, of course, about the deaths of his uncles and cousins. She hoped that he wouldn't have to learn of it.

She took the pot of soil from the carpet.

"Do you know what the plant will look like?"

Percy shook his head.

**Lily showed him some of the books from the bookshelves.** They had to stay _very quiet _because people were working hard downstairs. There were strange animals in the booksfrom countries far away. Their coats were bright and colourful. Percy hoped that he could have one as a pet. Errol was no fun – he was grumpy all the time.

He helped her turn the pages. Sometimes the creature in the book would be angry with them for waking it up, but Percy would tell it that it shouldn't yell because people downstairs were working and that they shouldn't disturb them.

Lily gave him some orange juice, and it made the edge of his mouth sticky. She began to show him more pictures - this time of brooms. She asked him if he liked brooms. Percy said that he did, but he had never gone on one. They looked at Comets and Cleansweeps, and found out how fast each one could go. Percy pretended he was a broom, and ran around the room as fast as he could until Lily caught him and he had to stop.

**Severus looked into her eyes.** They were light grey. They were nearly invisible.

"You're not her," he thought.

He stopped, got up and left, throwing on his robes and leaving money on her table, abandoning the wreck of a woman that lay on the bed in the corner.

**Rosaline breathed in and out heavily, watching the smelly, greasy-haired scut leave her room.** She yelled out after him, receiving only a "Shut up, ya filthy mudblood!" from the mistress.

**Percy watched her hands turn the pages.** He looked at his own. Her hands were so much bigger than his.

"Why are your hands bigger than mine?"

Lily looked up. She smiled, and looked at her hands.

"My hands were once little, but then they grew as I got older. You'll grow too. In a few years your hands will be even bigger than mine!"

Percy looked back at his own hands, lost on this new idea of growth.

"Is that why Mummy is bigger than me?"

**Lily suspected that there was another reason, apart from her age, for Molly Weasely's "big" appearance. **But she did not want to make things complicated.

"Yes, as you grow older you get bigger."

His eyes were wide with curiosity. She decided to try and simplify matters.

"Like your plant, Percy. You can't see it now, but it's growing inside the pot."

**Percy looked into the pot, expecting to see the green leaves of a plant on the surface of the soil.** He was disappointed to see that it was still all brown.

"It hasn't grown!"

Lily laughed.

"It won't grow quickly, it'll take time! You have to take care of it, Percy. You have to keep it safe."

Percy thought of the different places wherehe could keep it safe from his brothers.

"I'll keep it in my cupboard,"he decided. That was the best place to keep it away from harm.

"No, don't keep it in a cupboard!"

She wassmiling at this idea.

Now that hiding place was useless. Percy wanted to know why he shouldn't keep it in his cupboard.

"It won't grow properly if you keep it in a cupboard. It needs light; you need to keep it in the sun," she explained.

Percy thought of the little window in his bedroom.

"And you'll need to give it water, so it won't get thirsty," she added.

There was a bathroom next to Percy's room. There was plenty of water there.

"Then it will grow?"

Lily nodded. Percy couldn't wait. His plant would be even taller than his brother Bill!

**Severus stumbled through the cold, dark streets,desperate to escape the brutal confines of his own life.**

Lily! Why did he need her? Why did he need her kindness?

Why did he love her?

Water poured down the shop fronts. His socks were soaking in his shoes.

"Why did she love him – that?"

The injustice of this sudden thought struck him like a whip. He fell to the ground, his head pressed against the stone wall. He crouched there, his violent sobs deafened by the icy wind, his tears mingling with the raindrops. His feet trembled under his growing weight. All he could think of was her. Why had she appeared to him? Why must she remind him of her beauty, of her love given only to _him_?

Why did she not love he, Severus, who would remain loyal to her no matter what?

He writhed against the wall, struggling to overcome this internal humiliation, eager to rid himself of her.

**Percy had become sleepy, though he refused to admit it.** He leaned closely against his new friend. She was warm. He stared at his pot, imagining what his plant would look like. He wondered if he would be able to climb it when it grew big enough. He imagined climbing it, looking out over his house, waving down at his brothers below. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Lily, are you growing?"

He wondered how tall Lily would grow. He felt his eyes closing. She sounded quite distant when she gave the reply that he expected,

"Yes, I am growing."

**Julius couldn't sleep.** This was why he heard the heavy footsteps on the hall carpet, and the soft shutting of the door opposite his. He rolled over, sincerely hoping that Snape was not involved in any of the scandalous goings-on that were all over the papers. It would be very bad for business

**Lily was very relieved to see James return safely.** They were back in London. The sky outside was pitch black. Lily watched him sleep as she had that morning. She lay on her back, thinking about what was growing inside her.


	5. A Tranquil Poison

Disclaimer: What I said before.

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**A Tranquil Poison** by Rockinfaerie

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**Christmas Eve was a cold night**. Any few outdoor wanderers would find their hands stiff and their lips chapped. The roofs of Oxford were clouded with chimney smoke, and in one of the tall, narrow red-brick houses a small group of people gathered.

The basement kitchen was warm and welcoming.

Lily and James were the last to arrive, happily hugging the three others as they rose to greet them. They all sat down, congratulating Remus on his culinary abilities as the meal floated to the table.

The firelight flickered across the tiles. The long old wooden table creaked slightly, as five people slowly savoured their meal. The wine had been poured, and the food was hot. The turkey and ham on Lily's plate were drenched with gravy, and when she had finished only the remains of brussel sprouts were to be seen.

They all sat in this comfortable room, smiling, laughing, recollecting, trying to forget for one night about the troubles frequently occurring beyond those four walls. The smell of cooking lingered in the air, and the candles grew smaller.

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**Severus shook uncontrollably.** He felt sweat on the back of his neck, yet he was so cold. He had been kneeling on the moss carpet for so long that his knees had begun to cramp. His head was bowed to the Dark Lord. He had dreaded this night for weeks. Tonight his punishment would be administered. 

"Rise."

Severus immediately obeyed the terrible voice. He gained his upright footing once more. The sharp branches brushed the top of his head as he did so. Severus continued to stare at the decayed muck on the ground below him.

"You tremble."

The Dark Lord had observed his fear. Severus knew that this observation served as another weapon.

His master held two wands. Severus watched his own as it danced mockingly before him, just out of his reach.

"I do not blame you for trembling," the Dark Lord uttered quietly. "You know what is coming. I am however astounded by the fact that you knew this was a compulsory punishment for vain cowards, too caught up in their own values to see what is right. Yet you defied orders."

His voice was cool, like a biting wind. The Dark Lord now paced around Severus, drawing a thin white line with his wand as he did so. When the Dark Lord finished, Severus was surrounded by a hoop of dazzling light. The Dark Lord remained outside it.

His master raised both wands. With an urgent movement he flicked them towards the empty sky, his face leering down at Severus, who had sunk slowly to the ground.

His master departed into the shadow, and now wherever Severus turned he could only see the skeletal arms of trees. He did not dare to break from his circular prison. He felt tied to the ground, all elements of the earth seeping into him. Every moment took a day in that cage. With each moment, his fear of the unknown punishment increased. He felt sick. His mind clouded with possibilities...

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**Julius was forcibly seated into a leather armchair.** The figures in the sizable room were acquaintances of his, not entirely unknown to him, but not to be trusted at any cost. His ear recognised the language they spoke in, but it had been many years since he had last heard it spoken and could not comprehend what any of it meant. He supposed that there was work to be done on Christmas Eve. 

Deep down they had taken him, blindfolded, in those little carts he never liked much. The bumping tracks had made him dizzy, and it took hours to reach their destination.

They had arrived at their headquarters. Though this group were known for using "intimidating" methods of persuasion, he was not in the least perplexed. Julius was actually very relaxed in his comfortable seat.

His blindfold removed, he observed the room. He knew from the method of transport that they were in Gringotts. He guessed accurately that they were in one of those rooms he had often heard of, the hidden apartments behind an average sized Gringotts vault. He had been unsure whether to invest in one, and now he had a preview.

He found himself sitting in the centre of a very elegantly decorated room. It was big. A chandelier hung from its high, ornate ceiling. There was a fireplace in the far wall, and several pieces of antique furniture. The room was lit with wall sconces, mainly at the centre, casting the corners in darkness. There was a black grand piano on the right wall, the ivory and ebony keys facing towards him.

He rubbed his hand over the olive leather arm of his chair. It squeaked slightly. He had not been tied up.

He observed about six people around him. One treaded the soft carpet carefully, as though contemplating her actions. She was a slim woman, young, though clearly experienced. She, like her colleagues behind her wore dark, nondescript robes. Common uniform, Julius suspected.

She paced, the others observing her. Her black hair fell ruler-straight, reaching her lower back. Her skin was very pale, but there were two red splashes of colour on her cheeks, a rare sign that she had triumphed.

Two other members of this group sat in the brightest corner of the room, guarding the door. They were both barely men, Julius realised. One of them was round in appearance, the other wore a sunken expression on his face. Scattered cards lay on the dark table before them, some upturned. The firelight lit up their faces and Julius acknowledged them uneasily. Neither moved a muscle, but both eyed him carefully.

Three others, their faces cast in shadow, stood by the fireplace. Its heat reached Julius, and it was pleasant, he thought, to be seated in such luxury.

He was bored with the sudden lack of excitement. He looked back at the girl pacing before him. The question left his lips.

"Well, what do you want?"

The group of "Green Marketers" before him seemed quite taken aback by this relaxed attitude. The people behind this underground market were generally feared, though Julius could not fathom why.

This group had, after all, secured him many a fine deal in the purchase of foreign supplies, and the cash had rolled in. If this group meant money for Julius, he was not willing to part with them, nor would he make any attempt to report on their activity.

The slim woman paused mid-pace, and turned to face him with a swish of her hair. She laughed harshly at this question.

"What do we want?" she replied. "What do we want! Now there's a good question! There are many things I want, Julius, but I'm afraid there's only one thing we want from you."

She had come closer now, and was staring directly into his eyes. Another man emerged from the darkness behind his armchair, carrying a silver platter. The young woman took the bottle and both glasses from him, and smirked at Julius. She pured the bright liquid into both shining glasses and handed one to him.

Julius nervously took a sip from his glass. It had a bitter taste. He knew exactly what she wanted, and it was the very thing he didn't want to do. All eyes in the room were on him. Shadows were cast on the cold stone floor by the many wall sconces. He thought of his money, carefully stored in his own vault, many floors below. The stacks of notes, carefully piled by date of mintage, were all he could see. His thoughts returned to the woman before him, who was know drinking from her own glass. He arranged himself on his seat, carefully licking his lips.

"Come now, daughter. What's gotten into your little head? You know it's my only source of income and…"

The lady scowled. She slammed her glass on the side table beside her, causing the liquid to spill. Her wand was out, pointed directly at his face. He supposed he shouldn't have brought their blood relationship into such matters. When she spoke again her voice was cold and businesslike, with no hint of filial acknowledgement.

"Potente Potions must be shut down. That is final. If you do not do this we will burn it down. You are aware of the type of clientele you receive and so are we. We are aware of the sums of money passed by you to the Ministry, and we will report you and your allies if you do not comply. You have one week, which I consider very generous."

Julius felt his head in his hands. Potente Potions meant everything to him. Who was she to tell him what to do? He had watched his small business prosper under heavy sanctions. All his customers would be reduced to the underground, doing God-knows-what for a tiny, stupid, imported ingredient.

Just then, something occurred to him.

"If you burn down my shop, I will report you. The people involved in "Green Marketing" are highly desirable to the Ministry. You are aware also, I suppose, of the amount of disastrous violence that has occurred in this country in recent years? The Ministry are suspiciously unconcerned about the people who use the substances – they're only after the eejits who sell them!"

His daughter towered over him, smiling now. Her dark eyes glinted in the firelight.

"Yes, Julius. I know that. But you see, what you don't know is that we have made powerful alliances with the Ministry also. How else do you think we'd have lasted this long?"

She had a point.

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**Dance Severus, dance!** His veins pulsated with pain. He moved to and fro, absorbing the light inflicted on him. His worst feelings grew to such a peak that he fell again, the little impish creatures dancing in their glory around him. They circled him, running faster and faster. His prison reached such a sickening speed that he was gone again, into the land where he could be happy, into his own thoughts, trying to delude himself that it was all a nightmare. 

His thoughts were invaded by the creatures. Make me a potion! Make me a potion!

They sang it over and over again, and he had to make them a poison, a venom so powerful that it could kill cohorts of wizards in the blink of an eye. A potion? A poison! There was steam, and there were roots and shoots and risks and jumps and upside-down he went, flowing down the wall with his optional tasks. Yes these potions are optional. You need not worry. It won't make you warty. Hogwarts.

His poison was ready! It was in a glass vial. It was green, like her eyes! Oh how he longed for it! He lifted his heavy arms. He snatched at it through the blinding fog in his mind. It grew bigger. I need you! His hands stretched as far as they could go… almost there… no... NO!

An imp's hand snatched it from him, and the cell wall of ringed light broke.

He fell.

The surpressing madness left him. His mind became a confused screen of images, each one with a ridiculous sense of unease. The wide red iris had ceased to stare through him. The mottled white skin around his lipless mouth had creased upwards. He wore a manic grin.

Severus lay on the cold ground. The dark sky pressed down on him, making each breath an enormous effort. The bare branches above him twitched. It was as though they jeered at him.

He felt the icey ground beneath his back. He wished he could sink into it. He heard the crackling of the leaves beside him, burning in the red heat of his Dark Mark. His master laughed loudly.

With each second of silence between these outbursts of cruel mirth there was a certain terror in the air. There were no other living creatures around them. They were the only two.

Even the trees were dead.

Severus was drenched in a thick coat of sweat. His essence, his own sense of self was slipping away. He only thought of the Master above him, and to serve him, as unworthy as he was. Severus was filthy.

He heard the cracking of the twigs beside him - or were they his arms? The Dark Lord was moving. Severus lay still. The notion of doing something wrong in front of his master filled him with deep terror. He must serve him. He must remain loyal to him.

And still he wept internally. He was chained here forever. At his Master's feet. He was a slave. He could never leave.

Leave, and face this unspeakable torture, face the things he saw only as meaningless shadows in his worst nightmares. The limitless violent means the Dark Lord had at his nimble fingertips had been used on him. The invasion of his own deepest desires and fears had unmasked him. The Dark Lord now truley knew all.

Severus stared up at the vast expanse of dark sky above him. It knew all too. The sky watched them. The sky knew the horrors commited on behalf of the man beside him. The sky was a dark mass of floating knowledge. Even the highest fliers could not reach it. Severus wished he could be the sky.

Even in his current exhausted and disturbed state of mind, Severus acknowledged the long thin shadow that was quickly thrusted at him. He shut his dazed eyes, a slight awareness growing on him of what was coming.

The spell plummeted into his body. It first felt like a sudden shock, though it was something he had expected. His suffering now increased terribly. Images still flickered before him.

He was suspended for a split second in the air. His skin burned with tremendous pain. Every hair on his body had bolted upwards in alarm.

There was no potion. But there was poison. Poison in the form of the white-faced, red eyed man before him.

In his terror Severus laughed and laughed, because there was nothing else he could do. He was flung to the ground. His vision shifted. His master kicked him.

Thus followed an unceasing infliction of pain. It was a pain that grinded his bones together. His brain slowly de-fused.

The images slowly blurred and melted together, forming a strange and vast collage of his life. His blood had turned to fire, and his muscles had turned to ice. He rolled for those dark hours in the rotting vegetation, the twigs, animal remains, and fallen leaves of an autumn past.

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I**t was with a shock that Julius found himself outside in the cold night air.** He put his hands deep in his pockets, in a subconscious effort to warm them. He thought, as he always did, about money. Without money, he would be nothing. He was strangly envious of his daughter, of the power she had garnered. 

Christmas - a time for the family indeed! He thought back with a shudder to the days when he did not have the comfort of a hefty financial sum in his bank vault.

And hefty it was. But what if money became worthless? What then? He could not close his shop. Not only was it a matter of pride, but it served as his only investment, his only way of life, his home.

Property was very expensive - there were only so many wizard sites to be had in the country. Selling Potente Potions would be illegal. His trade was - after all - an illegal one.

He sauntered down the dark, frozen, deserted Diagon Alley, the starless sky giving him no light to show him the way.

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**She leaned against him.** The room had grown darker, and there was a lull in the conversation. Each of her friends seemed buried in his own thoughts. Lily noticed how relaxed they all were, the candlelight flickering across their familiar faces. Remus sat back on his chair, his tired eyes looking calmly into the fire. Across the table, Sirius was topping up Peter's wine glass. James held his arm around her and caressed her stomach gently. 


End file.
